"The desert bears only a scathing sun, and nothing more."
"What about mirages?"

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Metro Lips.

There's a metro;
a labyrinth of cities
lying in the
cracks and gaps
of your lips.

I see the cobbled streets
of Paris,
the neverending skyscrapers
of New York,
the gray of too many faces
in Bangladesh.

I wonder
how many have
been explored
and how many
I have yet to
see.

- - -

I edited this while posting it. It was originally much shorter and made less sense. With the addition of the second stanza, I think I shaped it more to what I had in mind for the piece.

3 comments:

  1. Crazy poem J.B. - what a vision.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Great stuff mate, great idea and well constructed.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I can tell you are young, because of the tiny size of type face you use for the text! Next time, have a thought for us Oldies whose eyes are not quite up to scratch, eh? LOL

    ReplyDelete

"Write with our backs to the wind and our faces to the hard, bleaching sun."